


white halo, red blush, honey thoughts

by Ros3mary



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, happy ending :)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-17
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2020-06-30 01:21:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19842592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ros3mary/pseuds/Ros3mary
Summary: Simmons comes back.





	white halo, red blush, honey thoughts

Fiery red hair appeared in Grif’s vision, in front of the blazing sun. He took a long stare at it, how the light behind filtered through and cast a white glowing halo around it. He looked down and the face beneath had silver metal plating and rusty freckles and an emerald eye...

Grif sighed. “I’m hallucinating again, Simmons.” He drawled, closing his eyes so he didn’t have to see. The images in his head were painful enough.

“Of course you are, Grif,” The volleyball said. Grif really had the worst Simmons impression. He hated it. Simmons’s voice was so much better. But what was he going to do, leave out Simmons’s lines? Pseudo Simmons was better than no Simmons. “All your gross oily blood is probably in your big fat head.”

“You’re right,” Grif sighed, unable to muster any emotion but ‘tired’. It was easier in the beginning but now... they were just mean. Meaner than he remembered. He was just tired. “Maybe if I clean the base again, you’ll be happier? You sound tired, Simmons.”

“You can’t make me happy, Grif. You didn’t even clean it right. I told you to vacuum the driveway and put the dishes in alphabetical order, Grif! You fucked it up. You’re a fuck-up, Grif, fuck-up-“

A loud thump boomed in Grif’s ear, and a woosh of air. He opened his eyes, looking towards Simmons, and just managed to see him flying in the distance, as if he’d been kicked.

Grif watched until the volleyball was out of his vision, then looked up at the hallucination. “You can’t do that,” He said simply. “Hallucinations can’t move things.”

Fake Simmons balled his fists at his sides, and Grif wondered briefly if he was going to be kicked into the horizon too. “Fuck you.” He finally said. Grif blinked and recoiled, surprised at the thick layer of ‘hurt’ in his voice. Real Simmons would never let himself sound so vulnerable. “I don’t sound like that.” 

“See, you’re not even a convincing hallucination,” Grif replied, flopping back down onto his back. The grass scratched at his bare neck. “Simmons doesn’t show his emotions if he thinks he’s going to be judged for them, because he’s a nerd like that.”

This Simmons sighed tightly and dropped onto the ground, pulling off random bits of armour and tossing them away. 

“Simmons wouldn’t do that either.” Grif said. 

Fake didn’t answer, just tossing away armour until he was wearing nothing but the black suit underneath. He sighed again, looser, and flopped down in a fashion similar to Grif’s, his head a mere few inches away when Grif turned his head to look.

He thought about the last time Simmons had thrown off his armour so haphazardly, in a dark, small place that smelled like sex, where Simmons looked at Grif like he was the only thing in the world and nothing else mattered except for them being as close as possible.

Yeah, memories were definitely painful enough.

“I’m not a hallucination.” Simmons said. One of his hands, his organic one, reached down and grabbed Grif’s. Grif stared. “I asked everyone else to drop me off here, because...”

With a level of effort, Grif looked up at Simmons, who was staring at the sky. Meet my eyeline, Jim. Grif wanted to say. He wanted to binge The Office and Star Wars and fuckin’ old ass You-Too videos or whatever they were called like they used to. But the TV was broken and Simmons had left a long time ago. “Because...?” He prompted instead.

Simmons’s skin flushed a blotchy, patched red that really shouldn’t be that cute. “Because I missed you, asshole! And I shouldn’t have left. And I’m sorry.”

Heavy silence draped over the two of them. 

“Well,” Grif finally said, at length, “this was nice. I’m uh, ready to wake up now?”

Simmons turned his head to look at Grif. His cheek was pressed into the grass, and Grif had to wince at the light that bended off his metal half from the sun. 

“You’re not dreaming,” Simmons said, giving Grif’s hand a light squeeze.

Grif stared down at where their fingers were entwined. “No, I’m fairly sure I am.” He said, casually, getting more confident by the second. This wasn’t how stuff happened. All of Red Team (with the exception of one rebellious member) was emotionally constipated enough to overrun a city’s sewer. They didn’t just say things like ‘I missed you’ or ‘I’m sorry’ easily. “You don’t know how to talk about feelings, Dream-Simmons. Neither do I, I guess, and that’s why I’ve never told you in real life that I’m in love with you, and it’s why Sarge solves everything with his shotgun, and why we all find Donut so repulsive. That boy’s not like the rest of us. There’s something wrong with him.” Grif sighed comically, lifting his other hand to pat at the back of the hand Simmons had finger twined with Grif’s.

When the Hawaiian looked up, it was so such an unheard of expression on Simmons’s face that he was actually taken aback. 

“What did you say? That- that first bit,” Simmons stammered. His eyes were wide, and he was looking at Grif with a weird sort of intensity that the orange Sim Trooper didn’t know what to do with.

“I said you don’t know how to talk about your feelings.” Grif said, choosing to do no more than cock an eyebrow at Dream-Simmons.

The redhead let out a soft, irritated grunt, propping himself up on his elbow and leaning over Grif, altogether a little too close.

“That- that I’m in love with you?” Grif frowned up at the redhead. With his head blocking the sun, the light caught at the edges of his hair, making his hair fiery and giving his head that halo appearance. “Yeah. Since basic. I dream about telling you at least once a week. Old news.”

Simmons’s nose brushed Grif’s. It felt too real. 

“What- what are you doing?” Grif stumbled out, punctuating the sentence with a nervous laugh.

“Learning how to talk about my feelings,” Simmons said. He closed the gap between them, and then they were kissing, Simmons’s lips moving against Grif’s in a sort of gentle way.

Grif didn’t hesitate to kiss back. His hands found their way into Simmons’s hair, and then Simmons was rolling onto him, straddling Grif’s waist and framing his head with his elbows, forearms braced against the grass.

The kiss lasted for minutes, or maybe hours. The sun was warm and the breeze was soft and Grif’s thoughts felt like honey, sweet and sticky and trickling slowly through his head. 

Simmons finally pulled away, but lingered close enough that the very tips of their noses brushed.

Kiss-drunk and sun-soft, it was all Grif could do to stammer out, “That wasn’t talking.” in a dazed, thoroughly kissed voice. 

Simmons laughed, breaking into an easy smile, and fuck him, who knew he actually had a nice smile under all that kiss-assery? And a cute ass laugh, to boot. “Well, this is. I’m in love with you too. Not... since basic, Jesus, but for a long ass time. And I’m sorry I walked away. I should have stayed. I’m- I’m here now.”

Grif dropped a hand from Simmons’s hair to cup his cheek, rubbing a thumb over pale skin. Simmons leaned into the touch and smiled tenderly at Grif.

“Are you real?” Grif murmured, watching his thumb move over warm, very real feeling skin, studiously avoiding one forest green, one cybernetic red gaze. 

“I think so,” Simmons said. He waggled his eyebrows playfully as he added, “want me to bite you?”

“You don’t-“ Grif cut off into a puppy-like whimpery sound of confusion, still focusing on rubbing his thumb against a rust-freckled cheek religiously. 

Who was this Simmons, playfully flirtatious and sincere, with a nice smile and cute laugh, touching Grif and kissing Grif like he wasn’t a touch-starved nerd with daddy issues and a superiority complex?

What the hell happened on that trip?

“I’ve had a lot of time to think,” Simmons murmured. His breath puffed warmly against Grif’s lips, reminding the latter of their closeness. “And, uh, not enough people to talk to. We’re assholes, yknow that? All of us. I just- I guess I just stand you more.”

“Stand me more?” Grif repeated. Simmons’s eyes bore into Grif’s, but he didn’t return the stare. Something uneasy churned in his chest, like- like if he looked at Simmons, he’d vanish. “You just said you’re in love with me.”

Simmons laughed breezily. “Feelings change.” He said. His tongue stuck out at Grif teasingly, poking out between white teeth. 

“You’re an asshole.” Grif huffed, sliding his hand up into Simmons’s hair and pulling him back down for another kiss. 

This one lasted longer, or maybe it just felt like time moved slower, and Grif felt so warm and calm and overcome with a feeling he couldn’t name that he was sighing into every touch, relaxing back into the soft grass, choosing to accept whatever was happening rather than stress about it and not be kissed like this.

When Simmons pulled away for the second time, his pupils were blown and he looked dazed, gazing at Grif like he was the only thing that existed. 

Grif didn’t shy away from the other’s eyes. He could imagine his face probably looked the same.

Simmons sighed, rolling off of Grif and collapsing down into the grass. He curled up against Grif’s side, grabbing the latter’s hand and pressing his face into the nook between Grif’s shoulder and neck. 

“What are you doing?” Grif finally asked. He couldn’t look down at Simmons, with the way the redhead was positioned, so he was just watching the sunlight trickle through the pale green leaves of the tree nearby, canopy shifting overhead and sending dapples of light onto the forms below. 

“Shhh. I’m napping.” 

Grif exhaled softly through his nose. “You hate naps,” he said.

Simmons bit softly at Grif’s neck, but then kissed the place, even softer. “Shut up and sleep.”

The tree’s canopy above him looked like it was bleeding with gold. Honey sunlight danced across Grif’s skin, but pale green leaves cast cool shade over his eyes. 

It was easier to fall asleep. Whatever was happening... it could wait for tomorrow, or later today, or whenever they ended up awaking. 

Simmons was warm and already breathing deeply in sleep at Grif’s side, and it felt like every molecule in Grif’s body was turned towards the points of warmth and touch that Simmons provided.

It didn’t take long for Grif to drift into sleep, and for the first time in weeks, it wasn’t with a heavy weighted darkness floating down with him.


End file.
